


And A Child Shall Lead Them

by shoegazerx, slashyrogue



Series: Shoegazerx Art Fics [13]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Child Death, Children of the Corn AU, Consensual Underage Sex, Cult Like Setting, Demon Hannibal Lecter, Emotional Manipulation, Gore, M/M, Monster sex, Not so happy ending, Young Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoegazerx/pseuds/shoegazerx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashyrogue/pseuds/slashyrogue
Summary: It's been five years since the Culling. Will Graham is living in fear under Mason Verger's reign in Wolf Trap as he tries to fend for him and his adopted family. One day, he hears a voice coming from the corn and it whispers the sweetest of promises.art by @shoegazerx





	And A Child Shall Lead Them

Will starts to hear the voice late one night after the kids are asleep, a faint whisper that seems like a ghost but feels real. He can’t make it out though part of him wants to go outside towards the corn.

He dislikes the corn and only goes near it when there’s a culling, watches as Mason Verger kills intruders and those who dare to be alive too long. Nineteen is the cut off, has been for almost four years now.

Will is turning nineteen in a three hundred and sixty six days.

Not that he’s counting.

He Who Walks Behind the Rows doesn’t like adults.  At least that’s the lie Mason feeds the army of young followers he has built over the last five years.

 Will feigns his allegiance but they both know he doesn’t believe a single word Mason says.

 A corn demon who needs to be appeased for their crops?

 Fucking bullshit, all of it.

 But he won’t say anything again, not after Beverly and certainly not now that he’s got Abby and the others to look after.

 Winston barks and Will sighs, grabs the leash before he heads out and feels a gush of wind come back in his face. The crops have been plentiful, he’ll give Mason that, but this isn’t a good sign for their crops. It’s April and things shouldn’t be this cold.

 He pulls his long sleeves up and waits for Winston to do his business.

 _‘Will.’_  

The voice is clearer here and Will walks the dog towards the corn. His heart starts to beat wildly in his chest but he doesn’t stop, not even when the wind picks up and his hair starts to obscure his vision.

_‘Will, I need you.’_

 He takes one step into the corn and Winston emits a deep guttural growl that makes Will pause.

 “Who’s there?”

 The wind dies down and Will shakes his head, suddenly unsure of what just happened. Was he going crazy like Mason?

 He turns away and takes another step just as someone grabs his arm hard, pulling him into the corn. The moon is barely full so he can’t see a damn thing but feels around to grab hold of a stalk. He moves to get back up and stands, shivering so much now that his legs hardly want to work. 

_‘Will.’_

Will turns so fast he falls over again but arms catch him in an embrace, warm and wonderful so much so that he holds on. He hasn’t been hugged by someone since Bev, content on raising the kids and keeping his affection to himself because who knew when Mason would take them away. He moans, turning in the strangers arms just as he reaches out to feel the face of his affectionate hugger.

“Who are you?” he asks.

His strange hugger whispers close to his ear, _“Someone who cares for you, my beautiful boy. Who does not want to see you suffer any longer.”_

Will gets pulled into another hug again and he starts to cry big hulking sobs that overtake him completely. He buries his face into the stranger’s neck.

“I miss my dad,” he whispers, “I miss….”

The stranger touches his hair. _“This new world is not what I had in mind,”_ he whispers, _“I am sorry I hurt you.”_

Will pushes him back with such force he even impresses himself.

“You? Who are you?”

A sudden light comes from nowhere that illuminates his stranger. Will’s eyes grow wide and he can’t breathe by the time the stranger is near him again.

_“I have seen your soul, Will, and it is beautiful. You are the one I should have chosen all along.”_

The man in front of him has ashen skin and too alive yellow eyes that seem to see right through Will. Will can’t seem to move and doesn’t want to, not now and maybe not ever. 

“Who are you?”

A soft touch to his cheek warms Will again and he leans into it. _“I have so many names I’ve lost count of them all so it’s best to go by nothing.”_

“He Who Walks Behind The Rows,” Will whispers, “This can’t be real.”

_“Even if it’s not, do you want it to end? I’ve watched you for so long, ached to get close to you, that this feels quite a dream to me as well.”_

Will can barely stand but he forces himself to move back. “You took everything,” he hisses, “EVERYONE.”

_“I regret hurting you, but has it not made you the boy you are today? The strong, kind, fierce boy who reigns in his feelings for others when he wants little else but to tear them to shreds?”_

Will shivers as the wind picks up and rubs his arms. “But if you hadn’t told Mason to—“

_“I told Mason I wanted a gift, a sacrifice, something that you all would rather die than lose. He chose the offering and every rule thereafter.”_

Will laughs. “I don’t believe you.” 

The demon smiles. “ _That is why you so fascinate me. You are not easily swayed. It will take another major event to bring you over to where you belong.”_

Will shakes his head. “I don’t—“

There’s a sudden yank to Will’s waist and gets pulled in again without the demon moving. Will shudders in the warmth of his embrace and loses the fight not to lean in.

_“Affection is a powerful thing. Do you crave the touch and warmth you deny yourself, Will?”_

“Fuck you,” Will whispers, tears filling his eyes, “I’ll never crave you.”

His chin is lifted and their eyes meet.

_“Everything I say is truth. I no longer wish to see you suffer no matter how beautiful you are while it’s happening. Do you think me real?”_

Will closes his eyes. 

“No.”

_“Who do you want to see suffer, Will? I will show you I am real and only wish to protect you.”_

Will’s stomach hurts when he chokes out one name. 

“Mason,” he opens his eyes, “I want to see Mason suffer.”

He Who Walks Behind The Rows smiles.

_“As you wish.”_

He wakes up in his bed with aching bones and checks his watch for the time.

Three thirty-three.

Winston is asleep by his feet, alive and safe, which makes him wonder why such a strange dream came on. He barely pays attention at Mason’s weekly “sermons” and can hardly stomach reading the crazy addendums that his cronies stuff in the mail almost daily.  There should be little reason for him to think about corn monsters and their oddly warm hugs.

He throws off his covers and stares with wide eyes at the corn husks that are in his bed. 

“No,” he whispers to no one, “must have been one of the kids.”

Will tosses them away and dresses while his heart beats wildly in his chest.

Everyday in Wolf Trap has been the same for three years now. Why would that change?

He leaves his room and starts to wake the kids, all six of them: Georgia, Marissa, Peter, Randall, Neal, and Abigail. Abby was the youngest but always woke without much prompting.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” he says firmly

He tries not to smile when she says, “Okay, Wiw,” and hops out of bed to the water basin. They ran out of running water a year after the first culling and get most from rain now. Though of course they have Jack for everything else.

Will doesn’t let himself think of Jack.

The kids are dressed and downstairs quicker than Will expects, eat breakfast—eggs, orange juice, and bread—before they all start chores.

He’s got them all on a schedule that helps alleviate the things that are missing.

It doesn’t help him much though once they’re busy.

Will walks to the window and hears Abby sweeping the floor behind him. The cornfield seems to loom ever so terrible over the yard, and he shivers when a familiar voice seems to whisper again.

_‘Will.’_

He turns to feed the dog and ignores the pull of the voice.

It isn’t real.

The rest of the morning goes by in a flash, and he’s just starting lunch when the door opens with a slam.

“He wants to see you at the church.”

Francis only comes for times like this. He will force Will to bring the kids to the sermons if Will keeps them home and stares at him the whole time. The sermon isn’t till tomorrow so Will tries not to let fear of the unknown reason take him.

“I can’t leave them,” he snaps, closing the milk jug.

“Peter is eleven, yes you can.”

Francis leaves and Will waits till he hears the car drive off to go check on Abby. Will knows Abby will worry if he goes without saying goodbye. He runs up to her room and shakes her awake. Her little frown makes him sick.

“Wiw I’m sleeping.”

“I’m going out for a bit,” he whispers, holding her little hands, “Be good for Peter.”

She nods and goes back to sleep. Will goes out and finds Peter feeding the pigs. He pats him on the shoulder, nods once and the younger boy nods back.

The church is blocks off but Will’s bike tire has long since gotten flat so he goes on foot. He wishes halfway he’d put on a coat but refuses to look weak when he knows Mason’s people are watching. The guards outside the church door smirk when he walks up.

“Abel,” he says, “Tobias.”

Tobias opens the door. “Have fun.”

Mason is spouting off nonsense when Will walks inside and his poor younger sister Margot watches with her knees up on the pew.

Will walks down the middle aisle and stops at the end to stare.

Mason Verger is thirteen, five years younger than Will, but he really does know how to work the room. He can imagine the excitement tomorrow and feels sick just thinking about it.

He won’t interrupt because he knows better, and when Mason notices him he doesn’t stop for a few minutes more. Then he does, ignoring Will still, and goes to Margot for a drink.

Will doesn’t move and tries not to sneer but he knows he probably is.

Mason takes a long chug from a thermos and then hands it back to his little sister.

“Will, how lovely of you to come.”

Will resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You asked for me.”

He watches the younger boy practically dance around the pew before meeting him face to face. Mason makes sure to stay just far enough away so he won’t have to look up at Will. “I did, I did,” he cocks his head slightly, “Has it been a bad year at the house? Any chickens dead? Plants dry up? Cows no longer producing much milk?”

Will narrows his eyes. “No, it’s been like all the others.”

“Then why is your collection smaller than the rest of them?”

Will wants to walk forward and grab the little asshole by the front of his shirt but he can feel the eyes on him. “I have six kids to feed.”

Mason looks at Margot. “You hear that, Margot? SIX!,” he laughs and the sound of it grates on Will’s last nerves, “Maybe we can take one in for him!”

Will’s stomach drops and he lets out a gasp. “NO! No, we’ll...I’ll figure it out,” he pants, “We’ll get better. We will.”

Mason looks at him again and wrings his hands. “Are you certain? We have plenty of room.”

“No,” Will says and shakes his head, “We’ll manage. I’m sorry.”

The smile he gets in return makes him sick.

“Good, good,” Mason says and walks over.

Will doesn’t dare look down on him when he gets close. He can smell the corn, the smoke, and soap on Mason.

Someone has died today.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Will nods and turns, quickens his gait to get out quick but stops when he hears his name again.

“Will!”

He turns. “Yes?”

“I hope you enjoy the message tomorrow,” Mason grins, “It’s the best one I’ve ever done.”

Will swallows the lump in his throat. “I know I will. Thank you.”

Mason shakes his head. “It’s not ME, Will! It’s He Who Walks Behind the Rows! He’s blessed us all! Praise him!”

Will closes his eyes and raises his hands, knowing what Mason likes best.

“Praise him!”

The echo of voices that follow are all the guards, seen and not seen, and Will wants to leave so bad he’s shaking. When he gets up again he bows.

“I meant what I said! I’ll take any of the younger ones you can’t feed! Margot’s always wanted another sibling!”

“Thank you,” Will gasps.

He rushes out of the church and doesn’t even make a sound other than breathing till he’s inside the house. The kids are all inside and look at him when he arrives, but Will just rushes up the stairs.

Will’s bedroom is the only private room in the house and though the door doesn’t lock all that well the kids won’t come in. He leans against it and lets the tears that he’s kept in fall, covering his mouth to block out his sobs.

He knows what happens to younger kids who go to Mason’s home. The secret that no one likes to acknowledge despite the mounds of dirt littered in their backyard. His kids, his family, will not be doomed to that fate.

The cows can’t produce more milk but they can go with less, they’ll have to, and he knows he’ll half his own portions first because he’s done most of his growing already. One more year and he won’t need food anyway.

The clock strikes two before he comes out of his room, face relatively clear and smile bright. Peter looks at him with a frown and Will pats him on the back when he passes by, ruffles Georgia’s hair and still can’t bring himself to talk. They all go out again together this time and Will buries himself in work. He mucks out the stalls and helps show the younger kids how to milk the cows better.

“We can’t spill a drop,” he says, “Be careful.”

Night comes sooner rather than later and he’s making soup again. The kids know better than to complain, eating with smiles and playing with each other. Will pours himself less than half his usual portion and keeps the rest in the cupboard.

Georgia, Marissa, Peter, Randall, Neal, and Abigail all start to work on their schooling after dinner. Schooling is kind of a stretch really, it’s mostly things Will remembers from the school he had and also simple things he thinks everyone should know.

They all work and he goes outside with the dog who runs up to the corn. He remembers his dream with a sudden clarity, the smooth as silk voice of the demon that shattered his life into nothing, and wonders if he was just that lonely he’d made up someone so hideous.

_‘Will.’_

The voice is there, smooth and inviting, which is why Will whistles to get Winston back to the door. He doesn’t look behind him and checks the time again.

Seven.

“Wiw! Is it time?”

Abby pulls at his pant leg and Will tries not to smile at her.

“You all finished?”

“Yes!” she says, “Is it time?”

Will sighs. “Yes, it’s time.”

Story Time.

Will’s least favorite time of the day mostly because it leaves him feeling so goddamn sad.

The whole thing starts like it always does.

“Who’s turn is it?”

Neal raises his hand. He’s seven and just starting to show it. “MINE! Don’t lie and say it’s anyone else’s!”

Will sighs. “Neal,” he whispers and closes his eyes.

He remembers Neal’s parents least of all, mostly because they were horrible people. The way they died was one of the worst and he can see their bodies in his memory most of all.

All that blood.

“Your parents loved cats,” he says softly, “They had nine of them.”

“I know that!” Neal huffs, “You tell me that all the---”

Will opens his eyes. “One of the cat’s names was Neal,” Will whispers, “He was the oldest and the nicest.”

Neal’s eyes widen. “It was?”

He nods. “He always greeted me when I went by your house, blue with red shutters.”

Neal’s eyes fill with tears when he smiles. “What color was he?”

“Gray. Your mother was so sad when he died,” Will sighs, “I think that’s who you’re named after.”

Marissa laughs. “You’re named after a kitty! MEOW!”

The other kids start to laugh and Will locks eyes with Peter. The oldest boy knows.

Story time has been nothing but lies for over a year now. He barely remembers anything but the names and faces, but most of the important things are of his own life. Bev and Dad most of all.

He’ll lie for another year if it’ll make one of them smile.

They each get one thing every night, some stupid lie that makes them think they have some tie to their pasts not just the bleak future. He wonders if when he gets culled the tradition will end.

He hopes not.

The rest of the night is mostly full of leisure activities though Will does nothing but observe. He knows at any time Mason can send someone in, call for whoever he wants, and he won’t be caught off guard.

He has a job to do.

Little by little the kids all get tired. Abby goes to bed first, followed by Neal and Georgia, then the oldest all clean up while he makes sure they’re asleep. This time of the night never takes long and when he’s back down the other three look up at him for explanation.

“We’re low,” he sighs, “I’m going to work out the portions but we’ll be fine.”

Randall doesn’t talk but he looks mad, Marissa looks terrified, and Peter just nods.

“We will,” he says, “Thank you, Will.”

Will nods. “Go up, I’ll finish here.”

They leave him be and he sits on the couch with Winston for a bit to absorb the quiet. He’s lived in this house all his life. His Dad once said, “Grahams will always live here, Will. I bet my life on it.”

Will’s eyes tear up and he is suddenly grateful that they took away the pictures in the second year. He remembers being forced to carry them all to the fire himself, his hands bloody from fighting against it. Mason’s smile then was especially cruel.

A month later Beverly was culled.

He stands and starts to walk for the stairs when he hears it again.

_‘Will.’_

The voice makes him shiver in the best and worst ways. He shouldn’t go outside, shouldn’t indulge himself in this weird hallucination, but he does anyway. Though this time he takes a coat.

Winston he doesn’t let follow this time. He stops at the edge of the corn and takes a deep breath before he walks inside. The warmth is immediate and he is almost happy to see that ashen face.

Is he dreaming?

He’s unsure.

“You didn’t do it,” Will whispers, “He isn’t suffering.”

The demon smiles. _“Oh, beautiful boy,”_ he whispers, _“He will. Just wait.”_

Will’s chest heaves with the effort not to break down. “I can’t do this,” he gasps, “It’s too hard and the others….he’ll take one of them and--”

He leans into the touch to his chest that is so hot it almost burns.

 _“I am not strong enough to kill him just yet,_ ” his demon purrs, _“But you….are strong.”_

Will steps back. “NO I’M NOT! I’M THIS WEAK, STUPID, THING THAT---”

He yanks Will so hard to him that it hurts. _“You. Are. STRONG.”_

Will closes his eyes. “It’s going to be bad tomorrow, isn’t it?”

He Who Walks Behind the Rows pets his head. _“How far are you willing to go to protect them?”_

“As far as can be,” Will whispers.

_“Then it will not be as bad as you think.”_

Will lets out a sob when the demon whispers close to his ear. _“My strong boy, you will make them pay.”_

He turns his head to meet those lips and wakes up just before he can.  The room is warm, almost too warm, and when he throws off his blankets the bed is covered in mud. Will puts his hands over his eyes just as someone yanks open his door.

“Wake up, Will! It’s time for church!”

Abby already has a dress on, the only one she owns, and he can’t help but smile.

“You look nice.”

She smiles. “See you downstairs!”

The door closes and he gets ready, his hands shaking, and when he’s dressed the feel of last night is still with him.

Is it a dream?

He’s not sure.

The others call out to him again as he fixes his tie. He stares into the mirror and tries to remember it’ll be over soon.

_‘My strong boy.’_

Will pauses at the voice and can almost feel those arms around him. “I can do this.”

He leaves the bedroom and finds the kids already outside.

“Ready, Wiw?” Abby asks and smiles up at him.

“Yeah,” Will says.

He leads them through town and sees several others doing the same: Freddie and Frederick Chilton, Alana and Miriam Bloom, and even Bedelia DuMaurier. She locks eyes with him as he passes and seems to be judging them without words.

They all head into church and Will sits the kids in the middle booths as always.

Bev had always said the middle made it look like you care just enough but not too much.

Will pushes down thoughts of missing her and stares around the room. Most of Mason’s biggest ass kissers sit near the front like always.  The inner circle is around the room looking for sinners to punish. He locks eyes with Francis who stares with eyes so dead Will wonders if he really has any feelings left.

The sudden piano music takes his full attention and Will watches Mason walk in from the back of the stage. Though walk is almost too broad a term for it 

His gait is stuttered, slow, and almost a limp. Will fought a smile when he saw how pale Mason was and the warmth it brought him was immediate.

He hadn’t felt this happy in years.

Margot ran up and fixed the microphone on the pulpit before Mason got there, the extra pep in her steps an obvious difference from the girl Will knew. She hands her brother the mike and gets dismissed with a sneer before she goes back to her place in the front pew.

Mason catches his breath, grips on the wood pulpit, and looks around the room before he speaks.

“You know what you did,” he wheezes, eyes narrowing, “You do. It might not be that big of a sin but you know it was wrong and fear judgement.”

He starts to walk again and Will wonders how long he’ll hold out. There is a pair of chairs on the stage and Will watches him pass them by. 

“But don’t fear!,” Mason yells, “You will be forgiven by He Who Walks Behind the Rows! He wants your allegiance! He wants your love! Do you want his love?”

Several of the kids around him start to stand up, clap, and yell out. Will feels Abby hold onto him and he lifts her up as he stood.

“YOU CAN GET IT! You can! He’s always watching! Always waiting! Just confess your sins, repent for the mistake and REJOICE IN HIM! REJOICE!”

“REJOICE!” starts to be repeated and the crowd’s intensity with it. Will watches several others fall to their knees and start to pray.

“We’re so close! So close to perfect lives! Who needs parents? Who needs the old ways? Not us! Do not let false memories taint the new haven we share! Do not! HE is the only father we need! HE is the only one who can bless us with his love!”

Abby holds onto Will’s neck and Will fights to stay when every part of him feels like fleeing this madness.

Georgia pulls on his shirt and Will leans down to let her whisper to him.

“I want to go home.”

He pats her head and doesn’t know what to say.  

“....so we need to do something for him. All of us, we just need to give him a new offering. Who here is eighteen years of age?”

Will freezes.

No, no, no.

He looks at the stage. Mason is sitting down and looking right at him. Will raises his hand, as do at least ten others.

Mason’s smile is wide. “You need to sacrifice for HIM. He needs you. The age to be culled is henceforth changed. Tonight, you will die for the rest of our sins. Rejoice in today for it is your last.”

The rest of the spectacle that is church Will barely heard a thing. Not the songs, mostly sung by Margot while others joined in, or the dedication of Freddie new daughter, Freida. He felt both Abby and Georgie cling to him the rest of the service. When it’s over it is no surprise to see Mason waiting at the door.

Will pauses to stare at his pale face, the obvious pain there from standing, and says nothing.

Mason says plenty.

“I will look after them when you’re gone, Will. Do not worry yourself. HE is good. HE loves you.”

Will wants to spit on him but instead he smiles.

“Yes, HE does.”

Mason’s confusion makes him happy and Will is all too eager to get home to the cornfield. He hugs the kids, wipes their tears, and tells them he’ll be inside shortly. The first step inside the rows he feels nothing and wonders if he’s done this wrong. Every one of his dreams had felt so real and maybe he really was certifiable.

Will stops two feet from where he went in and sits down. The earth is cold, chilly for March, but it’s better than standing.

He closes his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

Nothing comes for a moment and he feels tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this. Please. Please tell me I don’t have to do this.”

There’s a touch, that warmth that he’s come to crave, and when Will opens his eyes he smiles.

“Hi.”

_“Hello, Will.”_

He wipes away Will’s tears and Will can hardly breathe.

“Do you talk to him like this?”

The demon pulls him in close and makes soothing noises in his ears.

_“Never, my beautiful boy. Mason was….a mistake. I have forsaken him now and he retaliates.”_

“Forsaken? What does that mean?”

_“Abandoned, deserted, left. He knows he no longer holds my esteem as I told him so just before I began to speak to you.”_

Will sighs. “What’s happening to him? He looks--”

_“As if he’s in pain? Yes, he is in considerable pain which is why he wants to offer me a gift. He does not know of you and I. This is ours, not anyone else’s.”_

Will wraps arms around him and whispers, “I don’t want to die.”

The demon’s lips brush against his temple. _“Do you trust me, Will?”_

“Yes.”

_“You will not die. Not now, not ever.”_

Will just settles against the warm chest when the demon vanishes. He stands up and feels his bones ache but walks back out to find Peter waiting.

“What were you doing in there?”

Will pats his shoulders. “Saying a prayer.”

They walk back to the house and the others have already started to make lunch. Will feels a sudden ache for how much they’ve grown into a family in such a short time.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marissa, Peter, and Randall all look sad while the others don’t seem to have much feeling at all.

“Who’s going to take care of us?” Marissa says, “He’s afraid of you and now you’re going to be gone and--”

She throws an egg across the room and it hits the wall.

“You’re strong,” Will says, “So much stronger than him. You’ll protect them.”

The rest of their meal is somber and quiet. Georgia and Neal seem to understand more than Abby about what’s going to happen as they both glue themselves to his hip. He doesn’t want them to see so Marissa is left to take care of the little ones when they leave for the Culling Field.

Randall and Peter walk ahead of him like sentry guards and Will lets himself remember He Who Walks Behind the Rows. The words he promised and the things he felt with him. He was a monster but he cared for Will.

He had to.

_‘I do care for you, Will. Do not doubt that or me. Leave no room for doubt.’_

Will walks with his head held high when they get to the carved out entrance and Mason’s guards are the ones who take him in. He is taken to the left of the field where he counts nine others standing around a large cross made out of corn stalks. Among them is Alana Bloom, who one year ago held Beverly’s head in her lap and screamed while Will tried to get past Mason’s guards to kill him.

They lock eyes and nod to each other.

“I’m ready,” he whispers.

_‘Not yet.’_

Mason comes in Francis’s arms and is carried to the edge of the cornfield. He wheezes and looks more pale than earlier in the day.

“You are all here to witness the end of your suffering and a new day in our lives.”

Will sees the others lining up around him in rows of five but he doesn’t move. He sees the crowd who’s come to watch him die and sneers at Jack Crawford. The man who helped lure his father into death and became a coward against a band of children. The only adult in all of Wolf Trap who keeps the outlanders away.

He wants him to die last.

The demon seems to laugh in the ether.

“....and REJOICE! A NEW DAY IS HERE!”

The crowd all start to clap as Alana is pulled to the front of the corn cross. She doesn’t bat an eye, cry, or scream when Francis Dolarhyde stabs the knife into her chest. The blood seems never ending and Will has tears on his face as they tie her to the cross. One by one they are culled, not all of them worthy of the cross as they bleed and they are placed around the area till Will is called.

Francis smiles as they walk to the only empty cross and Mason can’t resist gloating from a distance. “Rejoice, Brother Will. You are making the ultimate sacrifice for us all. You are blessed!”

Will closes his eyes as the knife goes in, hears both Peter and Randall cry out, and lets go.

_‘I love you, Will. Do you love me?’_

“Yes,” Will whispers, “Yes.”

He’s tied to the cross and hoisted up alongside the four others. The blood chills him to the bone as it falls and he longs for the warmth of the demon’s embrace.

“Please.”

Will feels the warmth overtake him and lets out a sob as it fills his entire body. When he opens his eyes he can see everything and nothing at all. The others are shapeless blobs of lights, some dark and some brighter than the sun. He hisses, “YOU HAVE SINNED!” and rips his arm out of the ropes before he floats down to the grass.

Screams erupt around him but he doesn’t care when from his hands come tendrils of black that circle around each sinner till they’re nothing but blood and bone. He moans when the blood hits his tongue.

“I will have MY sacrifice now,” he growls.

He tears his way through the crowd like they’re nothing and certainly they are.

_‘Do you see the darkness in them, Will?’_

“Yes,” he hisses, “I see it.”

_‘They are the ones who are beyond saving. Take them for me.’_

Will smiles and does as he’s bid till there’s nothing left but five. One is darker than he’s ever seen and the rest are brighter than the sun.

That’s when he’s given his vision back.

Mason is the black souled monster and the rest are: Peter, Randall, Jack and Frederick. Frederick cowers with the kids as Jack stands in front of them. Mason drags himself along the dirt and blood drenches his clothes.

“Will?”

Will can’t bring himself to answer Peter’s call and instead reaches out to take Jack. He knows the man is not yet beyond saving but can’t help but crave vengeance.

“Will,” Jack coughs, “They took my wife, they….I didn’t want to die. I didn’t….”

Will lets out a laugh and his tears singe his cheeks. “Neither did my father.”

Jack’s death is immediate and mighty, a slice through the neck with nails Will knows are his now. He drops the body and turns away from the others to see Mason leaned against the very cross he came down from.

“This is his love,” Will laughs, “This is what he gives those he loves.”

Mason’s eyes are wide as he comes closer to him. He puts his hands up and Will wants to cut them off.

“You’re a monster,” Mason whispers, “You--”

“Let him see you,” Will says, “Let him see.”

Will feels the manifestation of He Who Walks Behind the Rows behind him and hears the others scream at the sight. Mason’s eyes start to bleed and Will laughs so hard his chest aches. He leans back in the demon’s embrace.

“Do you see?”

Mason spits out. “MONSTER! YOU DO NOT DESERVE HIS LOVE! YOU DO NOT! I DID EVERYTHING AND YOU ARE NOTHING!”

Will looks at his hands and the claws seem to grow longer with each passing second.

“I am everything he wanted and you were not good enough.”

He smiles when the demon reaches into Mason’s chest, grabs his heart and tosses it to the ground.

_Has he suffered enough for you now?_

Will smiles. “I guess so, but--”

“WILL!”

Will turns and sees Peter standing up with tears on his face. “Peter.”

“Will, this is bad. Remember? It’s all bad. Remember?”

He turns to look at He Who Walks. “But…”

“It’s all wrong, Will,” Randall says, “He’s BAD. He made Mason do the bad things and he’s making you do them too.”

The demon reaches out to touch his cheek.

“But he didn’t make me. He just helped. I wanted to do everything.”

Peter’s quiet gasp doesn’t even catch Will’s attention. He only has eyes for HIM. “Thank you.”

He touches Will’s face and the burn feels like a kiss.

“I love you,” Will whispers.

_“Do you?”_

“Yes,” Will promises, stepping forward, “I want to show you.”

The demon looks at Frederick and the boys. _“The children would do right by themselves to leave.”_

Will turns to Peter and Randall. “Run.”

The two boys run off and Will is left staring at Frederick. He doesn’t have any attachment to him but know he let his wife go so easily.

“You didn’t fight for your wife.”

Frederick shakes his head. “I was scared, Will. _You_ were scared before that _thing_ got its claws in you. Did you even see what you did? They’re all gone! You--”

Will lifts his hand up and curls it into a fist. Frederick chokes and clutches at his neck.

“I _saved_ us. Saved _everyone._ I am the _Chosen One._ You are nothing.”

He turns his wrist and a crunch sound follows as Frederick’s body falls to the ground.  

The demon comes up against his back and its breath makes Will’s skin crawl. “Does he please you?”

_“Is that how you love me? With so pitiful a death?”_

Will turns to look at him. “No, I…”

_“What would you sacrifice for me, Will?”_

Will feels tears burn his skin. “Anything. Everything.”

“The children, Will?”

“I….yes. I just want you to love me. I just need--” he sobs, “Please.”

“Show me how much you truly love me.”

Will nods. “I will.”

He leans down and touches the tears as they fall down Will’s cheeks. _This will be a fitting sacrifice. The harvest will be plentiful._

Will leans back and feels his skin burn. “Will it?”

_Yes, beautiful boy. A true sacrifice in the true spirit of the word. I can almost feel my power grow already. Can you feel it trying to flow through you?_

He does and wants more.

“Yes.”

_“Look at me.”_

Will turns and sees him now to his full height. He’s bigger and more decayed than ever.

“Show me.”

Will’s claws ache and he can hardly see for the tears in his eyes. “I…”

The demon bends down and grabs his chin.

_You need this, my beautiful boy. I promise you, once it’s over you won’t feel a thing._

Will nods and feels the power in his hands. He looks toward where the boys took off running.

_Show me._

He breaks out into a run.

They’re easy to track by the smell of blood, though the trail ends in the last place Will expects.

The church.

He runs inside and inhales.

“I know you’re here,” Will says, “I can smell your fear.”

A gasp makes him turn and rush towards the altar.

“’I’ll make it quick.”

There’s a crash and suddenly Peter stands behind the pulpit with a candlestick in his hand. Randall snarls behind him and snaps his teeth.

“STOP IT!” Peter yells, “This isn’t you! You care about us  and you’re not like them! He’s making you do things and—“

Will reaches out and his tendril wraps around Peter’s neck. He doesn’t tighten the hold.

“He’s helped me more than anyone. He cares about me. He—he says I’m beautiful. He didn’t make me do anything.”

Will’s tears burn his skin but he tightens his grip. He gasps when Randall bites into the tendril around Peter’s neck. He uses another to throw the younger boy across the room.

There’s a snap and Peter is gone.

Will’s control is gone with him.

Everything that happens after that is a blur. When it’s all over there’s so much blood that Will can barely breathe at the sight. He sees more bodies and recognizes the patterned dress that Bedelia wore, the dark colored boots that he’d once given Jimmy Price, and the scruffed beard of Brian Zeller.

He doesn’t mourn their loss.

_As it should be. Come._

It’s raining when he goes outside and feels the blood run off him like it was never there.

_Look what you’ve brought to me, my beautiful boy._

Will turns and sees He Who Walks step out of the corn. He walks and kneels at Will’s feet.

_A fitting sacrifice in the name of love._

The warmth that overtakes Will at the words is almost a burn and when he looks at his arms he sees the black of his new skin. He laughs and holds up his clawed hands.

“I’m a monster.”

The demon stands and embraces him. His long brittle fingers are like silk against Will’s new skin.

_You’re beautiful._

Will digs claws into his back and starts to cry. He cries for the past, the present, and the future.

He’s not sure anymore if they’re tears of happiness or despair.

Will tenses up when it’s evident they have eyes on them.

_They’re watching._

Will lifts himself from the embrace and sniffs the air.

“Come out.”

Margot Verger, Matthew Brown, and several others emerge from hiding. Will can see the terror in their faces. He thinks about how much he once had fears of Mason Verger and now fears nothing.

“No longer will there be a sacrifice from among us,” he starts, “No longer will we have to live in fear of a demon who wants us dead.”

He walks towards the crowd and they step back.

“The god embraced me and made me the creature you see before you. I will protect us all,” he raises his hands up and smiles at the demon, “Many have died today so we all could finally live. Praise him!”

He Who Walks raises his hand out as the others all go down on their knees and Will takes it.  The touch makes him shudder.

“He will protect us. He will love us. He will not ask for another among us again. Praise him!”

“PRAISE HIM!” they all echo.

“The last ritual he asks of will be nothing but love. Witness his love!”

There are eyes on him but he feels no shame in letting the demon take off the tattered remains of clothes that cover his young flesh. The rain is a cleansing that makes the world seem anew and Will wants to embrace this day.

He wants it all.

He thinks nothing of lying down in the grass and letting the water made mud sink in as he settles. The demon looms over him and shrinks down just enough that Will can hold him close. Their bodies touch and he feels warm all over, burns with it, and the touch of teeth to his chest feels like a brand. He moans, thrashes against the feeling, and his feet squish into the mud even as the demon turns him over.

“PRAISE HIM!”

They echo his words as the demon enters him and the burn of his tears hardly matches the feeling of their joining. He moans as he’s taken, lifts up his hands as the demon roars and digs nails down his back. Will sobs with the pleasure, the pain, and suddenly the demon whispers words he hadn’t known he needed to hear.

_You and I are one._

“Yes, yes, yes!” Will moans, “Fill me with you!”

The feeling of their shared pleasure when they reach the peak culminates in a sudden flash he doesn’t expect.

The future.

Will sees the prosperous fields, the town full of children and adults, and himself. He sees his shoulders held by He Who Walks, sees his skin isn’t monstrous at all, and feels how happy he is.

Praise him.

The vision blurs and the tears on his face make it hard for him to see. The demon lifts him into its arms and the crowd each touches the dirt on his body as if to join in his blessing. Will hears them laughing as he’s carried into the church. He presses his eyes closed and refuses to look at the scene.

_It’s beautiful._

“I can’t look.”

He feels the demon touch his cheek. _I will look for you._

“I hate this place now more than ever.”

_I will burn it to the ground._

Will clutches to him. “I need to be cleaned.”

_I will take you home._

He sighs and doesn’t shiver even though he’s nude.

Will doesn’t think he’ll ever be cold again.

“The claws?”

_Merely what you wanted to see. You are your own monster, Will. There is no need to change you. My beautiful boy._

Will falls asleep in his arms and wakes up in his own bed. He’s clean from the night before but feels nothing but joy in every step he takes that morning. The children are awake and look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes into the kitchen.

“Good morning. You don’t have to do chores today.”

He grabs a teacup and puts the kettle on the stove before turning to look at them again.

Abby is sitting in Marissa’s lap. “Where are Peter and Randall?”

“They aren’t coming back.”

“How are you still alive? How….?”

Will grabs the teacup and smashes it on the counter. “I’m alive! Shouldn’t that be enough? Shouldn’t you be happy? Mason is gone! There’s a new day ahead, we don’t have to be ruled by him anymore.”

Abby starts to cry.

“Wiw’s mean,” she whispers and pushes her face into Marissa’s neck.

Marissa’s tears don’t move him.

“Tell us a story, Will. Tell us the story of….the monster who put you into bed last night.”

Will’s hands shake when he picks up the pieces of the cup. “He’s not a monster.”

“He was made of rotten straw and had gray skin! He was…”

“He Who Walks Behind the Rows,” Will whispers, “And if you’re living in this house, you’ll respect him.”

The others look at him with wide eyes.

“He’s real?”

Will smiles.

“He’s real, and he’s everything. Would you like to meet him?”

Marissa opens her mouth and no sound comes out.

_Her rudeness will not be tolerated. The others will learn._

Will raises looks at the broken teacup in his hand.

It’s whole.

“Let’s go for a walk. Who’s with me?”

 


End file.
